In the long march across the Territory, they had
cared for my wants and performed uncomplainingly for me services
usually rendered by women. Those were before the days of lineal
promotion. Officers remained with their regiments for many years.
A feeling of regimental prestige held officers and men together.
I began to share that feeling. I knew the names of the men in the
company, and not one but was ready to do a service for the
"Lieutenant's wife." "K" had long been a bachelor company; and
now a young woman had joined it. I was a person to be pampered
and cared for, and they knew besides that I was not long in the
army.
During that winter I received many a wild turkey and other nice
things for the table, from the men of the company. I learned to
know and to thoroughly respect the enlisted man of the American
army.
And now into the varied kaleidoscope of my army life stepped the
Indian Agent. And of all unkempt, unshorn, disagreeable-looking
personages who had ever stepped foot into our quarters, this was
the worst.
"Heaven save us from a Government which appoints such men as that
to watch over and deal with Indians," cried I, as he left the
house. "Is it possible that his position here demands social
recognition?" I added.
"Hush!" said the second lieutenant of K company. "It's the
Interior Department that appoints the Indian Agents, and
besides," he added, "it's not good taste on your part, Martha, to
abuse the Government which gives us our bread and butter."
"Well, you can say what you like, and preach policy all you wish,
no Government on earth can compel me to associate with such men
as those!" With that assertion, I left the room, to prevent
farther argument.
And I will here add that in my experience on the frontier, which
extended over a long period, it was never my good fortune to meet
with an Indian Agent who impressed me as being the right sort of
a man to deal with those children of nature, for Indians are like
children, and their intuitions are keen. They know and appreciate
honesty and fair dealing, and they know a gentleman when they
meet one.
The winter came on apace, but the weather was mild and pleasant.
One day some officers came in and said we must go over to the
"Ravine" that evening, where the Indians were going to have a
rare sort of a dance.
There was no one to say to me: "Do not go," and, as we welcomed
any little excitement which would relieve the monotony of our
lives, we cast aside all doubts of the advisability of my going.
So, after dinner, we joined the others, and sallied forth into
the darkness of an Arizona night. We crossed the large
parade-ground, and picked our way over a rough and pathless
country, lighted only by the stars above.
Arriving at the edge of the ravine, what a scene was before us!
We looked down into a natural amphitheatre, in which blazed great
fires; hordes of wild Apaches darted about, while others sat on
logs beating their tomtoms.
I was afraid, and held back, but the rest of the party descended
into the ravine, and, leaning on a good strong arm, I followed.
We all sat down on the great trunk of a fallen tree, and soon the
dancers came into the arena.
They were entirely naked, except for the loin-cloth; their bodies
were painted, and from their elbows and knees stood out bunches
of feathers, giving them the appearance of huge flying creatures;
jingling things were attached to their necks and arms. Upon their
heads were large frames, made to resemble the branching horns of
an elk, and as they danced, and bowed their heads, the horns lent
them the appearance of some unknown animal, and added greatly to
their height. Their feathers waved, their jingles shook, and
their painted bodies twisted and turned in the light of the great
fire, which roared and leaped on high. At one moment they were
birds, at another animals, at the next they were demons.
The noise of the tomtoms and the harsh shouts of the Indians grew
wilder and wilder. It was weird and terrifying. Then came a
pause; the arena was cleared, and with much solemnity two
wicked-looking creatures came out and performed a sort of shadow
dance, brandishing knives as they glided through the intricate
figures.
It was a fascinating but unearthly scene, and the setting
completed the illusion. Fright deprived me of the power of
thought, but in a sort of subconscious way I felt that Orpheus
must have witnessed just such mad revels when he went down into
Pluto's regions. Suddenly the shouts became war whoops, the demons
brandished their knives madly, and nodded their branching horns;
the tomtoms were beaten with a dreadful din, and terror seized my
heart. What if they be treacherous, and had lured our small party
down into this ravine for an ambush! The thing could well be, I
thought. I saw uneasiness in the faces of the other women, and by
mutual consent we got up and slowly took our departure. I barely
had strength to climb up the steep side of the hollow. I was
thankful to escape from its horrors.
Scarce three months after that some of the same band of Indians
fired into the garrison and fled to the mountains. I remarked to
Jack, that I thought we were very imprudent to go to see that
dance, and he said he supposed we were. But I had never regarded
life in such a light way as he seemed to.
Women usually like to talk over their trials and their wonderful
adventures, and that is why I am writing this, I suppose.
